


Dwelling on What If

by Jinmukang



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Barbara Gordon - Freeform, Blood, Brotherly Bonding, Cassandra Cain - Freeform, Dehumanization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Human Trafficking, Hunted For Sport, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Minor Injuries, OC bad guys - Freeform, Serious Injuries, Stephanie Brown - Freeform, Whump, damian says tt, dont get angry at me for inaccurate medical stuff, i dont know what else to tag, jason says fuck, just a tool to cause pain, mentions of:, ocs are not a focus, shameless whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinmukang/pseuds/Jinmukang
Summary: The children of crime alley suddenly start disappearing with Red Hood suspecting a trafficking scheme in play. His questions are answered as he finds himself and Damian Wayne abducted and hunted for sport.(prompt by @doc-squash on tumblr)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Dedicated to @doc-squash who is an amazing, talented artist who is carrying the entire batfam fandom on their back. They also made the prompt idea in an old post a few weeks back and I’ve been working on this 12k beast of a fic ever since then because I couldn’t get this particular prompt out of my head. Seriously, Doc, I know we have never talked before but you are seriously amazing and I have mad respect for you <3
> 
> Warnings: kidnapping, trafficking, description of injuries, a swear here and there because it’s Jason and he gets to swear sometimes, probably inaccurate descriptions of New Jersey geography and medical stuff but it’s fan fiction so I don’t care too much to make everything super realistic, some blood, guns, knives, hunting for sport, slight dehumanization, angst. It’s not as violent as it sounds, I tried to keep this toned down, but just to be safe :)
> 
> It was interesting to write exclusively in Damian’s perspective for this. Honestly, I am so much more confident in writing his character now. Anyway, please enjoy!!

Damian groans as consciousness slowly returns to him. His head pounds as he brings his eyebrows together, trying to remember how to open his eyes. It takes a second, and the feeling of cold metal seeping through his clothes reaches him before he can even blink his eyes open. Blurry images greet him, fuzzy shapes obscuring more fuzzy shapes, until it slowly focuses into something that only slightly unnerves him.

Bars, well, not quite bars actually. Bars are what his grandfather used in his prison, thick tubes of steel usually an inch in diameter placed closely together so the one trapped behind then couldn’t even squeeze their shoulders through. No, these aren’t bars, these are wires, a few millimeters in diameter and crisscrossing around each other to make some sort of woven pattern. For a second, it reminds him of the kennel father bought when they first got Ace and Titus until he realizes that this is exactly what it is.

He’s staring at a kennel wall. From the inside.

An uneasy feeling settles in his gut but he pushes that aside as he slowly places his hands on the cool surface below him. He leveres himself up inch by inch, fighting down the feeling of nausea that rises to his throat. He slows and forces a breath through his mouth, the symptoms of being drugged are easily recognizable. 

Finally, he finds himself upwards and collapsing back so he’s sitting back on his legs which are folded beneath him. He closes his eyes and breathes through his sudden lightheadedness until his stomach stops trying to force whatever he had for lunch upwards. A few moments pass, and a few more, and he’s about to risk opening his eyes and moving again until he’s stopped by a familiar voice. 

“Mornin’, demon brat.”

Todd.

In a matter of a few heartbeats he has already thought of two different situations where he’d find himself in a cage with the voice of Todd nearby. Maybe Todd has finally _truly_ snapped and decided to kidnap Damian to get to his father or Grayson. Damian wouldn’t put it past him, Todd is a delinquent and a disappointment to the family, yet that doesn’t explain how Damian would have actually ended up captured. One things for sure, if Todd ever decided to take Damian hostage, he wouldn’t succeed. Damian is the one true heir to the cowl of his father and could have defeated every single one of his so called adoptive brothers in combat by the time he turned six. 

The next situation seems like the more likely one: Todd isn’t the cause, but the victim to it too.

He forces his eyes open and finds his second theory is the correct one, through that only makes things more complicated; at this point he would have preferred Todd go wild and kidnap him. 

Across a small, wooden room with nothing but a dull bulb hanging from the ceiling to illuminate is a second kennel, same size as the one Damian currently finds himself trapped in. Inside that kennel is none other than Jason Todd, fathers greatest mistake… after Drake of course. The guy is a nuisance in every sense of the word. Carefree, idiotic, never taking a single thing seriously. He likes to pop in randomly to start arguments for argument sake, he’s famous for interrupting important stakeouts with his loud guns and annoying personality, and worst of all, he thinks Damian like a child.

Tt.

It’s proof of this as Damian comes to meet the sight of Todd casually leaning in the corner of his kennel, hands crossed over his stomach and legs crossed at the ankle, toes just touching the opposing corner of the cage. He’s staring at Damian with a half eyebrow raised and a goofy, lopsided grin which makes Damian want to tear right through the wires separating them and break only the most painful of bones in his body. 

“Have a good nap there, buddy?”

Damian shoots a glare before he turns away and scoots over to where the door of the kennel he found himself in would be; slowly as to not aggravate any lingering nausea. He reaches his fingers up to the latch of the kennel door and frowns as he wraps his grasp around a small yet sturdy looking padlock. Frowning, he brings his hands down so he can place his feet—bare, shoeless, someone took his shoes and socks—against the lower part of the door in an attempt to bend it outwards and crawl out. 

“I’m gonna tell you now it won’t work, squirt,” Todd’s voice cuts in and Damian refuses to roll his eyes or even acknowledge him. “The bars are stronger than they look.”

Damian ignores him still as he pushes against the door and braces his hands behind him. He pushes and pushes until his back is pressed painfully against the opposite wall of the kennel and his legs are shaking with effort.

Defeated, he relaxes his legs and glares at the door. Not a single bit of metal even slightly bent out of shape. He can hear snickering besides him. 

“Tt.”

“Oh, c'mon. Maybe if you push a little harder-”

“Shut up, Todd.”

“He speaks!" 

Damian spins around to shoot a narrowed look but it doesn’t go quite according to plan as his stomach rolls and vision blurs ever so slightly. He allows the feeling of sick to settle before he opens his mouth again. "What happened?" 

Todd fakes a surprised gasp and Damian bristles at the action. "You mean to tell me the great Damian, the _blood heir_ , doesn’t remember how we got here?!”

“Of course I remember!” Damian snaps, he doesn’t but there is no way he’d raise Todd’s already cliff-like ego another notch by telling him so. “You’re going to tell me what you think happened so I can correct you where you are wrong.”

Todd sighs and leans his head back against the wall behind him. “Whatever you say. So bossy…”

Before Damian can snap at him again, Todd quickly launches into a story about how he was in Crime Alley scoping out a possible lead into a case of some sort that he’s working on and he ran into Damian who was also working on a lead, though Todd seems pretty confident that they were working on different cases. Damian wonders why he was alone in a place like Crime Alley until it occurs to him that he had just finished an argument with his father and had stormed out of the house for cool off. What the argument was is beyond him.

Apparently, they were cornered in some shady, insignificant alley by a group of people who looked like they were on drugs but still knew what they were doing with the tasers in their hands. 

Jason and Damian, looking like unsuspecting wonderers who had stumbled into the bad part of town, had to act like so because of Bruce’s stupid “don’t give yourself away” thing. As Todd speaks, Damian begins to remember the event with clarity. In fact, that was the exact cause of the argument with father. Damian doesn’t see the point in holding back while in civilian clothes. What’s the point to? If he can fight someone he should fight them, not pretend to be helpless just because he’s not wearing a mask. 

He supposes there’s a reason to hold back, after all it would be bad if all of Gotham were to find out Damian Wayne was actually a local hero called Robin. But what he doesn’t understand is why he has to hold back as much as his father wants him to. Children all over the world know basic defense, many others have actually taken karate and martial arts classes. He doesn’t see why he needs to pretend to be completely oblivious and weak when it comes to hand to hand combat. 

He remembers forcing himself to hold back when they were cornered, he can tell Todd was as well, yet he still threw punches like any well built man his age would when confronted by hostile parties. However, it was inevitable in the end. There were too many thugs to knock them all out and not raise questions. Todd eventually let a fist slip and Damian was grabbed behind. He could have easily slipped his arm out so he could break the jaw of his attacker, but he caught the glare of Todd and then he watched as Todd was viciously jabbed by a taser gun and he went down. It was then, as annoying as it was, that he knew he had to go down too. Thankfully, the taser wasn’t used on him, but a sickeningly sweet smelling cloth was sealed across his nose and mouth by the hand of his attacker. 

It was humiliating to pretend to struggle, to let them drug him and drag him to the blurry image of a classic “kidnapper van” as Grayson calls it.

“Does that all sound correct to you?” Todd suddenly asks, his eyebrow twitching upwards with the corner of his lips matching the action. 

“It was adequate.”

“Screw you.”

Damian once again resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Have you made any contact with the thugs in-between the time you awoke and I did?”

“You mean did I see the kidnappers while you were sleeping like a princess?" 

Damian couldn’t stop the eye roll. He tried. 

"Have they talked about any ransom? Plans?”

Todd shook his head. “Silent, haven’t seen a soul. Also, I don’t think they’ll be asking for any ransom. It’s not like this was an aggravated abduction.”

“How so?”

“C'mon, kid, they cornered two random guys in an alley. Plus, if it was for random, why did they take me?”

Todd, for once, is correct, though Damian hates to admit that even to himself. Jason Todd died years ago, right now, the man across from him has no connection to the Wayne’s whatsoever as far as the public knew. This isn’t premeditated, there is no way the abductors could have known Damian would travel alone to Crime Alley that night and meet up with a random man. The chances of that happening is close to zero unless they somehow had some sort of fortune teller with them, which in of itself is extremely unlikely. 

At this moment, Damian notices something flash across Todd’s seemingly laid back expression. Something in the way his eyes glanced over to the closed door to the small, practically humid room they find themselves trapped him for just a second. Something cold, calculating, and almost… cautious. 

The uneasy feeling settles in Damian’s stomach once again, though this time it isn’t because of nausea. 

“Todd, what was that case you were working on?”

Todd looks Damian straight in the eyes and it occurs to Damian that this is the first time since he’s woke up that Todd has actually made eye contact with him. Then, before Todd can open his mouth and explain anything, the door flies open. 

-o-o-o-o-

The man is a medium build, though he looks bigger because of the beard hanging from his chin and resting on his chest and the way his stomach bulges out in an obvious beer belly. Damian feels the urge to try and get the man to spill what’s going on, but he holds back when the man sets a reusable grocery bag on the floor next to his kennel. The man reaches down to his belt and pulls out a small gun. 

“Go all the way back, brat, or I’ll shoot you,” the man grumbles simply. Damian glares at him but begins to scooch away from the kennel door so his back is pressed against the far side of the cage. As strong as the wires of the cage are, they’ll do nothing to stop a speeding bullet. He draws his feet closer towards him and stays that way as the man lowers down to put a key inside the padlock. There’s a click and Damian tenses as the kennel door opens and the gun is pointed directly at his head with nothing now to stand in between. 

If he were dressed as Robin, he could easily grab this man’s arm and break it in three different places before he could even think about shooting, but right now he’s Damian, which forces him to be vulnerable. 

In what looks to be sickeningly practiced movements, the man grabs inside the bag with his free hand and pulls out a water bottle and… what looks to be a doggy bowl filled with gross looking crackers of some sort. The smell alone suggested dog food, from a local Walmart, not an actual pet store. The bowl and bottle are placed inside the kennel and Damian makes no move as the cage is closed again and locked. 

The man picks up the bag and sets of down now in front of Todd, he puts Todd through the same procedure until they both now have water and food probably not meant for humans.

The man steps away from Todd and gathers up the bag, he goes to walk away and Damian can’t hold his tongue any longer. 

“Who are you heathens?!” He demands. 

The man stops in his tracks and shoots Damian a glare. “If you want to live long enough to see tomorrow, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, brat.”

Damian narrows his eyes and is about to retort against all better judgment but Todd suddenly speaks up.

“Hey, I need to pee.”

The man snaps his neck over to Todd and strides over to the cage. Todd puts on a fake, fearful expression and even flinches when the man kicks the kennel violently. “Then go, bitch.”

And without another word, the man turns and leaves, closing, and locking the door behind him. 

Todd let’s out a breath and Damian stares at him. “What was that?” He demands. 

Todd takes a second to look away from the door before he meets Damian’s gaze. “You asked what my case was,” he says slowly, “if… this is it, and I’m pretty sure it is, he would have killed you if you talked back. No hesitation.”

Damian falls silent for a second as the weight of the situation blankets the atmosphere. Kidnapped, in civilian clothes, with allegedly merciless abductors. “What do we do?” He asks quietly, on instinct, almost like it’s Grayson or his father in the other cage; he wants to take the question back but Todd has also seemed to recognize the heaviness in the air.

His face remains grim as he answers. “Act your age, and if you have a chance to escape, take it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bahm! Chapter 2! Right after this one, some real fun stuff happens. Also, thank you for all the comments and lovely feedback from the last chapter! I can only hope this next chapter can keep you all excited!!!

Hours pass before anything else happens, enough hours for Damian to guess that it’s now the next day. The drugging has unfortunately thrown his entire body clock off the wall so all he has to go off from is that maybe the water and the pathetic attempt of food was dinner, and almost eight hours has passed since them. 

After Todd explained in a hushed voice what he’s found on the case, he slowly nodded off to sleep, telling Damian to wake him up in a few hours so Damian can get his rest. He rolled his eyes at that; yeah right, there is no way he’ll let himself get into the vulnerable state of sleeping while in enemy territory. He’s trained to stay up for longer than a few days so he’ll be fine.

Instead of resting, he ponders over what Todd told him. Children going missing from Crime Alley in pairs, disappearing for weeks at a time until another pair goes missing. Crime Alley is one of the most neglected cities in Gotham, even by Batman, (which Damian protested at since there has been plenty of times he himself patrolled Crime Alley), which makes for a lack of cameras and law enforcement to care. All the kidnappings happen in empty alleys behind random shops that no one goes to unless they’re looking for strange voodoo-like artifacts. The shops are too poor to own security surveillance and most of the cameras on traffic lights have been painted over or just straight up removed by people who felt they had the right to not be recorded speeding past red lights. 

When the victims go missing, they go mi _ssing_. There’s no footage of them getting grabbed, none of a car speeding down the road, the closest camera alone to the place Damian and Todd were taken is located along the highway between Crime Alley and the Narrows, almost 20 minutes away with traffic. 

Not even Batman could easily detective his way into finding these guys quickly. They’re smart.

Damain sighs and adjusts his back in the corner of the kennel, trying to relieve some of the pain that came with metal wire being pressed into his skin for hours on end. 

Think. Just think. Think about what happened, which he will do, and what he will do if it goes wrong. Think… think.….. he’s bored. He looks down at the untouched bottle and bowl, the little beads of water drip down the sides of the bottle, a result of osmosis. He swallows and turns his gaze away. There’s no way he’ll put a single thing they give him into his person. Besides, the seal of the bottle is obviously already broken. What kind of idiot did they think he was? 

He sighs and goes back to thinking, entertaining himself by twiddling his thumbs.

-o-o-o-o-

Another hour passes and finally something happens. There’s footsteps thumping towards the room and gravelly voices that sound like they just woke up. Across the room, Todd’s eyes blink open and his eyebrows come together before he glares at Damian. 

“I told you to wake me up,” he growls but Damian doesn’t get to snap something back because the door unlocks and opens roughly. In comes three separate men, each of different builds but all rather stupid looking.

The one who gave them the “food” and water is nowhere to be seen, which means there might be even more than this. That’s not good. If Damian was to get out of the cage, he could definitely handle whatever number of abductors there were, it would just be harder . Not that much harder though, he wouldn’t even need Todd’s assistance…

They spread across the room, eyeing their two captives like they were already imagining all the things they could do to them. It sends waves of uncomfortable shivers down Damian’s back, and he won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel slightly relieved when they focus their stares down onto Todd. 

“Okay,” says one of them. Grayson, years ago, has taught Damian to name people in his head if he doesn’t have the actual names for them, to keep track of them. Father has never taught this, so it must be just a Grayson thing, but Damian is now in the habit so he instantly assigns this one the name of “Heathen no.2”. Grayson would probably call him “mustache” or something stupid off of his physical appearance but Damian is not that childish. Heathen no.1 belongs to the man who gave them the water and dog kibble.

Heathen no.2 paces between the kennels, his beer belly jiggles with each step. “Who wants to play, first?”

Heathen no.3, a lanky man who reminds Damian a bit like a rat, gurgles a laugh and bends down in front of Damian’s cage. “Let’s do the little one,” he says with a very, very nasally voice. It makes Damian wants to place his hands over his ears, except he has to hear what’s going on because it looks like he’s about to be shoved into some game against his will and he needs all the information he can get.

“What’re we playin’?” Todd’s voice speaks up and Damian releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Heathen no.4 snarls and kicks the side of Todd’s kennel and no.3 turns away to watch the commotion. 

“Shut up, rodent,” he… or rather _she_ hisses. She looks like a man at first glance, even has a bit of facial hair, but the curving around the chest and hips gives it away. Her voice sounds sufficiently woman-like, if that woman has been smoking twenty packs a day like this lady most likely has been. 

No.2 chuckles. “No, this is good. Most kids are crying for Mommy and Daddy by now, this will make it go faster.” He leans down and Todd cringes slightly, either because the man smells horrid up close or because Todd is trying to put on a frightened show, or it could be both.

Whatever the case, no.4 backs away, glaring daggers at Todd. Great, he has already made enemies and he hasn’t even said five words. Truly impressive. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid,” no.2 sneers, leaning even closer towards Todd’s kennel, placing his meaty hand on the top to stable himself. “We’re gonna play a little bit'o tag." 

Damian studies Todd’s reaction, and there’s no change. If fact, it looks like Todd already knew what the game was. "What’s the rules?”

The man above him chuckles, he does that a lot. Maybe Grayson would call him that instead of “mustache”, it seems more fitting considering the man’s actual mustache looks like a decaying caterpillar. “The games real simple, ya see. We let one of you go, give you a five minutes head start even, then we do our darndest to catch ya. If we catch ya, then we’ll play it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next until we get bored of ya and kill ya, ya die on your own, or until one of ya escape. See?” He holds out his free hand in a mock welcoming gesture. “Easy.”

No.3 suddenly grabs at the other man’s shoulder, “let’s play with the little one, I want to play with him-" 

"Nah,” no.2 says, grinning and standing back up. He rubs the dead caterpillar he calls a mustache and gives Todd a thoughtful look. “I think this one wants to play.”

No.4 grins, already reaching at the hunting knife strapped to her hip.

-o-o-o-o-

Damian has been alone for what must have been two hours now. After they opened Todd’s kennel and wrestled him down so they could work handcuffs around his wrists and ankles, they dragged him out with little complaints from the woman and many from the lanky guy. Todd gave Damian a strange look he couldn’t decipher and then he was left to wonder what would happen, alone, and a little hungry. 

He fiddles with the bottle, twisting on and off the cap, and after another hour passes he resorts to loosening up his pent up energy by chucking bits of kibble up at the hanging bulb. He slowly works up a small pile of dog food in the middle of the floor, and he should probably be worried that they’ll get angry at him for making a mess but at the same time the floor is already very dirty and he doubts they’ll notice.

He wonders if Todd got away and if he’s left Damian all alone to deal with these guys. An uncomfortable feeling works it’s way into his gut at the thought of Todd just leaving him, but he squishes that feeling pretty quickly. He doesn’t need Todd. Besides, if Todd escaped he can get father and Grayson and maybe even Drake to take all these guys down if on the off chance Damian can’t handle them alone. 

He doesn’t care if Todd got away. He definitely doesn’t care if he’s okay. He’s just wondering why it’s taking so long.

Finally, after what must have been five hours, there’s the sound of loud laughter followed by stomping footsteps. 

He pushes himself up into a better position—he hasn’t noticed he’s been slouching till now—and watches with his breath caught in his throat as once again the door is flung open. He tells a mixing pot of emotions when he sees heathen no.2 come in first, barking with laughter with a can of beer on one hand and the other single handedly supporting the weight of a halfway conscious Jason Todd over his shoulder. 

“Lasted longer than the others,” heathen no.4 remarks as she and heathen no.3 open Todd’s kennel so the person in question can be thrown in. 

Damian doesn’t get a chance to look at Todd for much longer before his view is completely taken over by the face of no.2, and it’s in that moment Damian confirms that the reason Todd cringed away from this man earlier is, in fact, because he smells terrible. “Let’s see how this one hold up tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,” no.3 squawks, a hungry look glinting in his eyes. 

Damian really isn’t liking the looks he’s getting from these people. He grits his jaw and lifts his chin, glaring. “I’ll escape,” he says. 

No.2’s eyes widen ever so slightly like he’s surprised Damian spoke in the first place, before he grins and Damian is hit with the rotten smell of his breath. “You’re welcome to try.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! Busy week! I didn't get around to editing and posting this chapter last Monday. Please enjoy the next chapter!

Todd doesn't stir until about thirty minutes after the abductors left, laughing. Damian's done nothing but sit around and wait for what's close to a full 24 hours and he's getting a bit sick of it, but judging by the way Todd groans and hisses various swears under his breath gives Damian the impression that he'd rather be sitting around, doing nothing.

At this moment, Damian doesn't envy him. Not that he ever would.

The first thing Damian notices on him is the black eye, it's dark, purple, looking all wet and leathery under his halfway sealed eye. Green and purple bruises trail down from his cheekbones into his shirt, giving the impression that there's more under his clothes. Small, scabbing cuts and dried on splotches of blood paint the visible skin of his body and he's clutching onto his left shoulder with his right hand. With a closer look, Damian can see a fresh splotch of red staining his shirt. 

Damian watches as Todd slowly shifts himself up so his back is leaning against the cage before he tenses and grits his teeth. "Fuck," Todd says, forcing himself to relax. "Fuuuuuuuuu-"

"You couldn't get away, could you Todd?"

Todd stops in the middle of his swear to shoot a glare Damian's way. "Screw you."

"Tt."

"It's harder than what you think," Todd continues, "I almost got away but they had an electric fence. Seven feet tall and buried into the ground. They caught up to me before I could find a way past it."

"And you let them best you in combat?"

"It was either let them shoot me or let them beat me with those guns, brat."

"Tt."

It falls silent and Damian studies Todd again, who's now leaning his head back and glaring daggers up at the ceiling. It looks like Todd had been shot anyway, judging by how he's grabbing at his shoulder, trying to either lessen the pain or stop the blood flow. It doesn't look bad, it was probably a graze, a warning shot, a promise they'll hit something more important if he tried to run. 

After some time, Damian decides to turn away and rest. His stomach is starting to grumble and his throat is definitely feeling parched, the effects of hunger and thirst beginning to settle in. Damian's been on many fasts, lasting days without food and water, weeks without just food, but there's something about forced fasts that makes the sharp pangs in his stomach and scratchy feeling in his throat even worse. 

However, he's not about to drink an already opened, possibly tampered, bottle of water or food meant for a dog. 

"It's all forest out there, Dami," Todd suddenly says, shocking Damian out of his thoughts. Damian turns back towards him and is about to shoot a glare at the use of that nickname, but he stops when he sees the look on Todd's face. It's… soft. Lacking the hard expressions he wears all the time, he's looking at Damian with some sort of sincerity that Damian's only seen directed towards him from Grayson, like Todd actually cares about him, which is impossible because Todd cares for nothing. "They'll make you go tomorrow, and whatever you do, you need to get out of here. Don't hold back. Just get out and get help, I know you can do it."

"Of course I can do it, Todd. I don't need you to reassure me of my skills."

Todd let's out a laugh and cuts himself off with a gasp, various pains reminding him they still exist. "Ah- listen, we're definitely out of Gotham but I think we're pretty close, probably just west of it. Watch out for traps, there's lots of trip wires. Just, be careful. Dick will kill me if you die."

"Tt. I know."

"Just making sure," Todd says, smirking. "Also, there's more than four. There's nine of them, Chuckles is the leader and the two with him are his cousins."

"Chuckles?" 

Damian raises an eyebrow as Jason rolls his eyes. "God, did Dick teach you anything? You're supposed to name them."

" _Chuckles_?"

"I know that's a Dick name! I'm just lacking creative energy. What do you call him, if you're so smart?"

"I am smart, Todd. Smarter than you. I don't need to tell you what I call him."

Todd nods his head. "So you took the "Tim" approach and called him something boring like "bad guy 1"."

"The… Tim approach?"

"Yeah, Dick does stupid obvious nicknames, I like to mix them up and call them actual names that I'd think would fit them—I'm actually getting good at guessing names—and Tim just numbers them. I think Steph does this thing where she assigns them dessert names, which is stupid. Cass and Duke I think are the only ones who when they say they don't do it, they really don't. I'm still trying to figure out what Bruce does."

"Father doesn't name people."

"Oh, he does, you don't go on multiple missions with Dick and not eventually start naming people. I think he does the Tim approach, but I also think he could be doing the Dick approach. I have my money on Tim but Alfred has his money on Dick. So what do you do?"

"… he's heathen number 2."

"The Tim approach!"

Jason bursts into laughter as blood rushes up to Damian's cheeks. He'll have to change the names, because there is no way he'll willingly copy something that Drake does.

-o-o-o-o-

After some talking, Damian ultimately decided to keep his number system. Chuckles is good and all, but the names "the one with boobs", "Alexandra the 6th", "if Wally West became a druggie", and "Ryan Reynolds" were all horrible names. Jason blames it on low creativity but Damian knows he's just incompetent. 

And so, after what felt to be a full night of waiting, footsteps announced the arrival of their abductors before they even opened the door. Damian shoots Todd a look, and Todd swallows, looking exhausted. 

"Make sure you get out of here, demon spawn. Get the others. Don't try to fight them all on your own."

"Tt. Don't worry, I'll be back to rescue you."

"Not if I escape first, little D." Damian glares at him and he smirks, though his smirk quickly falls when the door opens. 

It's almost admirable how practiced their movements are. It's just heathens no.2, 3, and 4, but Damain doesn't even have enough time to pretend to struggle before his ankle is grabbed and he's dragged out. For the show of it, he lashes out his fist, but his wrist is grabbed and he grunts as he's turned over onto his stomach. He feels the bite of cold metal press into his wrists as cuffs close over them. After his arms are secured, they cuff his ankles as well and then lift him over no.2's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

Damian has just enough time to look back on Todd before he's carried out of the room, and what he sees sends… a strange feeling into his gut. Like this is the last time he'll ever see Todd, which is ridiculous because he's going to escape and save Todd, he'll definitely see him again. 

Todd's frowning up at him, something sad in his eyes, and then his view is cut off from the door closing behind his abductors. 

He's alone now. 

"Where are you taking me?" He snarls. For show of course, he knows that they're probably going to take him outside and tell him to run, he just needs to make them think that he's as scared as any typical thirteen year old would be. "Let me go!" 

Be kicks his legs and wiggles his upper body but the man doesn't let go of him, just tightens his grip ever so slightly. Damian, as he pretends to struggle, studies the building they're moving through. They just came up some rickety old stairs that lead down into the basement where the kennels are into a log cabin-esque living room, if that log cabin had been let go over the years and was now halfway rotting.

It almost looks like whoever these guys were, they found some old abandoned house in the middle of the woods and decided to stick around. 

Considering the kind of hobbies they seem to be into, that might just be the case. Makes it harder for them to be tracked down if they place where the crimes are taking place doesn't even belong to any of them. 

"I can't wait to play with him," heathen no.3 says, following behind, wringing his hands together like a vulture expecting a present. 

No. 4 rolls her eyes and opens the front door for the man carrying Damian, and soon fresh air meets his nose instead of the musty air he had been breathing for the past day and a half. 

The first thing Damian notes is that it's overcast, clouds blocking out every inch of sky, making it impossible for much sun to shine through. There's a chilly breeze, promising autumn, and the smell of rain wafting in with it. The area is surrounded by trees, towering high and beginning to yellow around the edges of the leaves. There's no sign of a road.

He notices other faces outside, ones he hasn't seen before, and in all honesty, Damian can see why Jason used the names he did. These people really do look like what they describe. Suddenly, he's dumped onto the ground and he winces when he lands on his shoulder, though the landing is softened by the loose, almost muddy ground. 

He lays there, slowly shifting himself into a more defensive position, as the people around him all greet each other with pleasantries like "good morning" and such, shaking hands and exchanging small talk, before they're all passing stacks of money towards heathen no.2, confidently saying bets like "the brat won't last longer than the last one" and "I think we'll nab him within the first hour". None of the bets seem to be in his favor, in fact, one of them were even "Hundred on Ralphy here beating him to death". Damian now supposes he knows what no.3's name is now, judging by the way the guy grinned and puffed out his chest. 

Then, no.w added his own money to the pile. "Two-hundred on this one escaping."

"What?!" A man gapes, he's an unhealthy amount of skinny and has dark circles under his green eyes, the red hair on top of his head looks untamable and thin. Truly, a druggy version of Wally West. 

"That's my bet," no.2 says, simply.

No.4 steps up to him and places her hand on his shoulder. "None of them's ever escaped."

No.2 grins and looks down at Damian, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "There's always a chance for a first."

Next thing he knows, no.2 is grabbing Damian around the upper arms. Damian hisses and tries to kick out at him, but he's easily manhandled onto his stomach and pinned with a knee to the small of his back. If he were Robin this man would already be sporting quite a few broken bones.

There's clinking, and then Damain is scrambling to his hands and feet the moment the cuffs are removed. He glares at the people who has abducted him. One of them are already slinging a rifle across her shoulders. 

"Five minutes starts now, brat," no.2 says, smirking as he loads a pistol in his hand. Behind him is "Ralphy", practically shaking with anticipation. 

Damian doesn't hesitate, he turns tail and runs into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good? Bad? Eh? Thanks for all the support on the last few chapters!!! I hope this one doesn't disappoint. Gets fun from here!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was looking through the bookmarks of an author that wrote one of my favorite works and I saw THIS in their bookmarks and thought "oh shit" because I almost completely forgot about this story. I've been so busy with 20 others lol.
> 
> It seems that even after I've literally finished writing the entire story I still struggle with uploading it all 
> 
> Oh well. Enjoy!!!!!

Todd was right, the forest is riddled with trip wires and bear traps that it’s nearly impossible to run in a straight line for long. Some are so cleverly hidden than he almost ended up tangled up in a net, hanging several feet in the air, within the first thirty minutes of escaping. Luckily, he has sharp eyes and was able to avoid it just in the nick of time. 

He has an endurance to rival any grown man, he can run for hours if needs be, but Todd didn’t tell him how big the forest is, how far away the electric fence is, nor the specifics of the landscape, so he knows at some point he needs to rest to save up energy. All Damian has is the five hours Todd had been gone the night before, that Gotham must be to the east, and that “it’s all forest”.

With that information, Damain believes he should run into the fence within three hours if he’s lenient. The issue is that it’s overcast, the sun isn’t shining very well through the clouds, making little to no reliable shadows or anything of the sort that he can use as a makeshift compass. There’s also the problem that while his body clock insists on it being morning, it very well might not be. Sure, he’s been trained be accurate with his time keeping, but the body does make mistakes. 

For all he knows, it could be noon, or evening, and he wouldn’t know until he saw the sun move from one point to another. If he didn’t know what time it was, he wouldn’t know what way was east. 

He sucks in a breath of air and decides that, for now, the best thing to do would be to trust his instincts and just focus on getting as far from the abductors as possible

And with that, he slows to a stop and puts a hand against a tree to catch his breath. He may be trained and raised to be above average when it comes to his physical body, but he’s still human, and humans get tired after running for half an hour. 

He focuses on sucking in air for a few seconds as he studies his surroundings. Trees, nothing but trees. He sighs and takes in one final breath, hating how parched and hungry he felt, and continues at a steady jog.

-o-o-o-o-

Damain had thought that he would be able to outrun his pursuers, even with his thirst. He didn’t take into account that they would drive a car. He really didn’t. There’s so many traps that he wouldn’t think one would be able to drive a Jeep around, yet he supposes it would be possible if they knew where all the traps were. 

He heard the engine, the shouts that they see him, before he saw it. He curses and takes a sharp right, jumping over a tripwire, and increasing his speed. This will throw him back. A car like that won’t be able to fit more than five people if they really squished. As he runs in the opposite direction, he can hear whooping and catcalling. 

Ignore them and run. That’s what he needs to do. He can fight them, defeat them, but that will just exhaust him further. Hand to hand combat is extremely tiring and with no foreseeable future with a drink of water he can’t risk it. 

The engine gets further away, and he’s hoping he lost them. He’s almost convinced he lost them until he’s suddenly falling backwards, avoiding a hunting knife being swung right at his neck. 

He turns heel and he can just barely recognize heathen no.3, Ralphy, and a motorcycle built for off-roading parked behind some bushes. How had he not noticed the noise of it?! 

Ralphy charges, laughing excitedly, swinging his knife like he’s aiming for a boar not a human child. Training kicks in with the grim command from Todd to not hold back, that keeping alive is more important than keeping an identity. 

Damian lashes his hands out and ducks just in time to grab the man by his wrist. Surprise flashes in his attacker’s eyes, and soon pain and fury, as Damian twists his arm around at the perfect angle, effectively breaking his wrist. Ralphy howls and backs away from Damian as the younger pulls up his fists close to his chest. The knife is now on the ground.

“Give up now,” Damian snarls, “you won’t win!”

“So you have karate or some shit,” Ralphy sneers, “I’m still gonna gut you.”

Ralphy charges and Damian moves to the side, except because of the extended amount of time running with no food or water has effectively, and embarrassingly, made him a bit slower than what he would like. He grunts as the body weight of a man almost twice his size rams into him and they both fall to the forest ground. Damain hisses as he tries to get his hands out from between him and his attacker, and he manages to do so just in time to catch the unbroken hand coming down to punch his head. 

“Get off!” Damain yells, kicking his legs, but the body over him just grunts and pushes his arm down further, shifting his legs so he’s pining Damian down with his knees on his stomach, which makes it hard to breathe. 

Damain’s arms shake as he fights off the strength of a full grown man, trapped with one arm… how embarrassing. He gives a lurch with his hips and knocks Ralphy’s balance off, which gives him a chance to throw his hand off to the side so he can lurch his hands up to his attacker’s eyes. 

Ralphy screams as Domain manages to sticks his fingers into one of two eyes. Blood squirts out and he winces, a dirty move Grayson and Father would never approve of, but he’s sure they would understand. Well, Grayson might. Father…

He pushes that matter to the side, he needs to focus. Ralphy is standing up and stumbling backwards, clutching his damaged eye with his good hand. Before he can recover, Damain scrambles to his feet and pushes him as hard as he can right into a trap.

The choked scream and surprisingly loud sound of a snapping bone fills the air as a miniature yet deadly version of a bear-trap closes around his ankle. He falls backwards, screaming hoarsely and Damain doesn’t stick around any longer. The noise is surely to alert the others. 

He backs up; his mistake, because he soon finds himself upside down hanging from his ankle, leg pounding in pain from the rope now closed tight around his foot. 

“Shit!” Damain ignores the pain and looks down… _up_ at his leg and tries to lift his body up towards the rope, abdominal muscles burning with effort. “Shit.”

He drops back down so his arms are hanging past his head, towards the forest floor multiple meters below him. 

There’s laughter and he glares at Ralphy whose beginning to laugh hysterically, bending forwards into himself, broken hand off to the side, the other grasping at the teethed metal inside his shin. The blood dripping down his face and pooling around his leg makes him look like he’s just crawled out of a horror film. 

“You’re gonna have to gnaw your own foot off,” he says, lungs jolting with chuckles, “if you want to get out of that!" 

"Tt.” Damain turns his head away and looks back towards his food, the rope already beginning to cut off circulation and rub the skin raw. He takes a lungful of air, ignoring how his head is starting to feel rather heavy, and curls up in himself to reach the loop around his leg.

“When they come, I’m gonna make sure they leave you there until I can get you down myself. I’ll rip you to shreds, little bitch. Your death will be slow, painful, and I’ll kill your brother right in front of you on your last breath. And you’ll regret being born!”

Damain resists the urge to bristle at the use of “brother” and instead grits his teeth as he grabs onto his shin to relieve some of the stress in his stomach muscles and to more quickly climb up. Ralphy continues to gloat and ramble and threaten as Damian finally wraps his hands around the rope just above the knot that’s tied so tight around his ankle the skin is white. The knot is professional, made to be durable. It tightens and is practically impossible to loosen, and the knot itself is normally almost impossible to undo.

Good thing Damian is far from normal.

“It’s a shame we’ll have to kill your brother, they really enjoyed hunting him yesterday. Almost got away too, closest one of you animals to ever do so. Maybe if you beg real pretty I’ll consider convincing them to give him a quick death-”

Damian forces the words towards the back of his mind, making it nothing more than white noise, as he holds up his body weight with one hand and with the other he digs his fingers into the knot. He can’t afford to let an attacker’s words get to him, not when there’s no telling how close or far the others are.

“Are you listening to me, you fucking bitch?!”

Finally. Finally with a tug that knot becomes undone. Damian barely has enough time to prepare himself before his entire body weight is being held up with one hand. Grunting, the rope slips out of his grasp, dumping him harshly onto the ground. 

He can hardly feel his foot, and he knows that trying to walk on it will be difficult and soon pins and needles will definitely be a pain. His hand is stinging from rope burn, and for a small second, he considers just laying there for a second, but he quickly shakes that thought out of his head. He can’t afford to rest, especially since he can hear the distant rumble of a Jeep’s engine. 

With his hands placed firmly below him, he slowly lifts himself up so he’s carefully crouching, putting all of his weight on his good ankle and letting the blood flow back into his injured one. Across from him is Ralphy, staring at him with wide, surprised eyes. Good. Maybe that will shut him up.

It feels like his entire foot was replaced by a balloon, even looks a little like it and he hopes the bone hasn’t snapped in the violent trap, however he can feel the inkling of static pain starting to sink in, which he tales as a good sign. Stealing his resolve, he pushes himself up carefully to avoid snapping his foot himself. It’s enormous effort to not fall after the first step he takes, and not even Batman would be able to hide a limp, but he eventually takes two, three, more steps forward and bends down to grab what seems to be the knife Ralphy has been trying to gut him with earlier. Glancing at Ralphy, he noticed that there’s no gun on him. He hasn’t thought about that until this point. So this guy thought he wouldn’t need to bring a gun to catch Damian? Embarrassing.

For him.

Ralphy seems to instantly break into a nervous sweat the moment Damian takes another step towards him. The engine is getting louder and his foot is starting to feel like he placed it in fire, but he needs to do this. He has to make sure Ralphy won’t be able to tell the others what direction he’s going.

“Hey-” Ralphy stutters, already pleading for his life. Pathetic. “Look, I was joking- I-”

Damain cuts him off with a well placed blow to the head with the handle of the blade. Ralphy is unconscious before his chin hits his chest. 

With a breath, Damian rips off a shred of his shirt, starts the engine of the mountain bike, ties the strip around the acceleration, and launches the bike into a random direction into the forest. 

That should throw them off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll definitely remember to post the next chapter next week. If I don't, just yell at me in the comments or smth.
> 
> Thanks for all the kind words on this little and random story!!! Y'all are all so kind!! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N'yello.

He doesn’t see anyone else, not for a long while, and soon he finally reached his first destination: the fence

There’s sharp shards of pain in his ankle, but they’re small and he’s walking relatively fine, which assures him that his foot is not injured. In fact, his limp is just barely visible as the fence reaches his sights. 

And it's… underwhelming.

What he was expecting was exactly what Todd told him, a high, electrical fence that looks impossible to pass. The entire journey Damain was looking for rocks that could help him dig, he’s been wondering if he could use his knife to cut off or confuse the circuit, hell he’s even been planning on how he could find a way to simply jump over it. However, what he’s met with is something as complicated as a cow coral fence. Circular, wooden poles about his hand in diameter stick into the ground several feet away from each other, barely taller than Damian himself. There are three strands of barbed wire wrapping around each pole and a slight hum in the air hints at electricity being ran through at least one of the wires. 

Todd was exaggerating. But why? 

The odd feeling in his gut he felt as he left that basement and kennel behind seems to grow. Something is wrong. Something is off. How did Todd get really get caught? Sure, he’s inferior to Damian in every way, but even Drake would be able to get through this. Something else kept him from leaving, something else ultimately got him recaptured. Something he doesn’t want Damian to know. 

He shakes his head, he doesn’t have time from this. It’s been hours and he’s pretty sure that if he’s stuck out in this forest for much longer he’ll pass out from dehydration. The clouds above are dark as well, promising rain, and the terrain on the other side of the fence is exactly the same as the forest on this side, which makes Damian think that maybe this isn’t the fence Todd was talking about, but Todd would have mentioned a second fence, right? 

Whatever the case… he steps forward and finds a soft enough spot in the forest floor for him to safely army crawl under the wire. It takes just a second, and suddenly he’s easily on the other side. 

Now, he could have officially escaped or he’s just a part of the way there. Both options make that uncomfortable feeling grow.

-o-o-o-o-

He’s halfway delirious by the time he stumbles upon a paved road. It’s been raining for some time and he’s soaked to the bone, the trees gave way to grasslands but that hardly makes any difference to him at this point. He’s so tired, wet, cold, but at least he’s not thirsty anymore. 

The road is heaven sent. With half lidded eyes, his feet—his cut, scraped up feet from the hours he’s been walking with no shoes—suddenly fall upon a stability that he didn’t truly appreciate until now. His muscles ache from walking in uneven, wet dirt for so long so a bit of paved road almost just makes him want to get emotional about it. 

He has no time to get emotional about it. There’s a car. 

Working up strength, he lifts his arms above his head, waving wildly and hoping the driver can see him through the pitter patter of rain falling on his windshield. 

“Hey!” He yells as the car comes closer, waving his arms more widely. “Hey! Stop!”

For a second, he doesn’t think the car will stop, and he practically falls down to the pavement when he sees the car suddenly start slowing down. It comes to a stop on the side of the road and it occurs to Damian that these could be the very people he’s been trying to get away from, but the passenger door opens and a woman jumps out dressed in what seems to be church clothes, her hair all done up and beautiful jewelry hanging off her neck, ears, and wrists. 

The drivers seat opens and it’s a clean shaven man in a black suit and tie that looks like he got it from the local mall and that he always forgets to iron after washing. 

“Oh my gosh it’s a kid, are you okay?!” The woman calls, walking over to him with one hand covering her eyes from the rain, bending over slightly to find purchase with her high heels. 

“I-” Damain starts and he goes to take a step towards them, but it seems with the hope of rescue all of his energy has been spent. Embarrassingly, he’s caught by the man. 

“Woah there, champ,” the man says and Damain clutches to his arms as the man starts to help him walk towards the car. “What happened? What are you doing out here?" 

"I-” he starts again, “I need a phone.”

“Okay, honey,” the woman says as she walks up towards him too, gently placing her hands on his shoulders, “just take your time-”

“I need a phone,” he repeats. “I need to call… I need to call someone.”

“Okay, slow down,” the man says and Damian wants to snap at him because he can’t slow down. He needs to call father, or Grayson, curse it he’d even talk to Drake if he were the one to answer the phone. He just needs to call them and let them know that he’s safe but Todd is still back there. “You can use my phone, let’s just get you out of the rain first.”

“We need to call the hospital-” the woman says and he tries not to tense at the words. He can’t have the hospital, or the police, he just needs his father. They open the back door of their small van and Damian comes face to face with a small boy with wide eyes and dressed in a suit. He backs away from the door to the other side of the seats as Damian is helped inside.

“Don’t worry about getting the seats wet, honey,” the woman says. 

“I need a phone.”

The couple give each other a look before the man sighs and pulls out his phone, handing it to Damian a moment later. 

Damain wastes no time punching in the first number that pops in his head. He places it against his ear as the woman gets back in the passenger seat, pulling out her own phone, as the man leans nearby, looking seemingly unbothered by the cold rain that’s starting to come down a bit harder. 

There’s one ring, and then the call is connected. Quick. 

_“Hello_?" 

The voice sounds surprisingly urgent… like he’s been expecting a call for awhile.

"Grayson.”

“ _Oh my god, **Dami**_?!” There’s shuffling. “ _Oh god, okay, are you okay_?!”

“I’m fine.”

“ _That’s good. Okay. I- I don’t know- it’s usually Bruce- what do they want? Are you on speaker_?" 

Damain takes a second to process the end of that sentence. Grayson sounds frazzled, nervous. There’s typing noises on the other side of the line. "What does who want?”

“ _The- the kidnappers? This… this is a ransom call… right?_ ”

“I…” he glances up at the man still standing above him, he’s facing towards his wife as she talks into her phone. “…this isn’t a ransom call. I’m borrowing a phone.”

“ _Holy hell_ ,” Grayson exhales, his relief completely evident in his voice. “ _Where the hell were you then? We’ve been worrying for days, you didn’t come back to the manor and Bruce called me and I couldn’t find you, it looked like you went into Crime Alley and didn’t come out. Jesus, Dami, we thought you were kidnapped._ ”

“I was. I just escaped.”

“… _Escaped_.”

“Yes, Grayson. I’m tired, so please try to keep up.”

A beat of silence. “ _Who’s phone are you using_?" 

"I flagged down a car on the road.”

“ _Okay. You trust them_?”

“Yes.”

“ _Then stay where you are. Babs has your location and we’ll be over in-”_

“Grayson, Todd is still with them.”

“ _Jason? He was taken too_?”

Damain glanced up wearily once again up at the couple. The phone was down, so they’ve probably finished talking to the hospital or police, but they were now talking together as the child leaned over the driver’s seat, listening to them talk. “With me. These guys take people off the streets in pairs. I just happened to be with Todd when they cornered up in Crime Alley.”

“ _How come he hasn’t escaped too_?”

“They kept us in kennels, only let one of us out at a time to play… some sort of game. Todd went first, and they hunted him down like a wild animal, and they caught him. I went the second day… I escaped.”

“ _Okay… okay so I guess bring the suits, right_?" 

"Yes… there’s a number of them and they all have weapons, they are fairly efficient at using them. Todd’s been grazed with a bullet and was beat up, so we may need first aid as well.”

“ _Okay. Dami, stay right where you are. Let the people you’re with know I’m coming, we’ll be_ -”

“It’s strange,” Damian spat out against his own will, like the feeling in his stomach has gained a voice, “Todd could have easily escaped the first day… and he didn’t. He lied about the fence and almost purposely made himself stand out to the abductors…”

_It’s a shame we’ll have to kill your brother._

“ _Damian_?”

His sad, almost content expression as Damian was carried away. _Make sure you get out of here, demon spawn._

His lack of surprise to anything they said. That stare he gave Damian when he made sure Damain knew he had to escape at any cost. _Just get out and get help, I know you can do it._

_If we catch ya, then we’ll play it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next until we get bored of ya and kill ya, ya die on your own, or until **one** of ya escape._

“ _Damian? Are you still there!_?" 

"They’re going to kill Todd…”

“ _What_?!”

Damain looks out into the forest further away from the road, his heart both so still and pounding in his ears. “They’re going to… because I escaped…”

“ _Damian, stay where you_ -”

Damain didn’t stay to listen to the rest of that sentence, the phone is left on the seat as Damian jumps out of the car and runs. Voices call for him, but it blends with the rain.

-o-o-o-o-

It’s his fault. 

He never realized or caught on that these people played a game made for two people, he should have known with the betting and their words. If one dies, so will the other, if one escapes, they have no need for the other. 

They’re going to kill Todd.

That’s why Todd made sure Damian escaped first. Why he willingly got himself caught. 

Todd’s going to be killed. 

It will be Damain’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter! 
> 
> Thanks for all the love one this??? I'm honestly super shocked anyone likes this story! It's not my best work, that's for sure, but I'm super glad some of you love this!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things work out. Sometimes they don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that this is all up. I'm glad you guys have enjoyed this little story! It was more of a character study to get a better grasp on Damian and Jason, but it was still fun to write and very fun to see your responses to it. It feels good to post a completed multichapter fic. Haven't done that in a long time.

He doesn’t even reach that far back into the forest before he stumbles. Adrenaline can only take him so far, it cannot take him miles and miles of uneven, wet land. He doesn’t even reach the fence before he trips, a root catching on his bad foot and making him fall stomach down into a puddle, elbows and hands just barely stopping his face from planting into the muck. 

His arms are shaking and his chest is heaving. His foot sends a sharp pain into his leg with every movement, his leg muscles feel like jelly. 

He’s failed. 

It’s… not like he cares for Todd. If anything, Damian almost… despises Todd. He’s loud, obnoxious, and constantly going against fathers orders. He’s always ruffling Damian’s hair roughly, always shooting guns, causing chaos, swearing, he smells like leather and dirty air… he’s just an all around dislikable person. But… he’s still… family. Sure, he hasn’t talked with Todd as often as Grayson or even Drake, the man was already living out on his own and doing his own thing before Damian showed up, but the times Todd came over and the times Damian crashed at his place when Grayson and his father and everyone was just too much… Damian feels like he knows him. He’s annoying… but family. Every family has the rebellious annoying one that everyone dislikes, but at the end of the day he’s still…

A brother. 

And if he dies, that’s a brother’s blood on his hands. 

“C'mon, Robin,” Damain spat. “Get up.”

His arms tremble with effort to lift himself up. He gets halfway into a lazy plank, arms lifting himself up, knees still in the mud, before his hands slip and he’s back to laying on the ground, the rain pelting against him. Thunder rumbles and he slams his fist into the mud, causing a splash as he growls in frustration. 

Everyone’s always told him he’s impulsive. He just wishes that this time it worked out like it usually does. 

“Damian!" 

He hasn’t noticed his eyes have fallen halfway closed, hasn’t noticed how much time has passed, hasn’t noticed someone coming up behind him. 

He thinks he sees the face of Brown before his eyes slip completely shut.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes up for moments, seconds, for flashes and sights and sounds before he goes back into the warmth of unconsciousness. Spoiler’s purple clad arms lifting him up, Nightwing’s worried voice, the sound of a jet engine, the flash of a shock blanket and the black leather of the batjet’s seats, the warmth of a space heater, bangs, shouts, silence, chaos.

He remembers opening his eyes for a moment, Orphan is gently bandaging his injured leg and Nightwing is dragging a bloodied body with Batman’s help onto the seats next to where Damian lays. He sees a bruised, scabbed face with one eye sealed closed with swelling. The shirt they wear is wet looking, visible skin is dripping with blood. The person is unconscious. 

Nightwing is desperately pulling out a first aid kit, and Damain returns to the blackness.

-o-o-o-o-

Consciousness returns slowly. Each sense coming to him one at a time, agonizingly slow, until he can recognize the weight of his comforter, the sounds of birds outside the window, the smell of his favorite candle melt, the taste of morning breath, and once he opens his eyes he sees his bedroom ceiling. 

He groans and shifts, wincing at the dull pain his whole body, especially his ankle, seems to be in. Next to him is a glass of water and a few painkillers laid out on his bedside table. Blinking, he ignores the painkillers for now and sits up, feeling like he’s missing something. 

What was he last doing…?

"Jason.”

The word comes to him against his own will and he stares at the far wall for a second, trying to figure it out. Then, it all comes back to him. 

He practically jumps out of his bed, flinging bedsheets aside and scrambling to get his feet on the floor. He’s bolting towards his bedroom door and without any hesitation, he flings it open and launches himself out. 

Right into Pennyworth. 

The butler easily catches Damian by the shoulders and balances then before either of them can topple over. “Master D-" 

"Where’s Todd?” Damian demands. “Is- is he okay? I-”

“Master Jason is fine,” Alfred puts in before Damian can say anything more. With those four words, all the energy in Damain’s body seems to deflate and his leg pulses angrily. “Now, let’s get you back to your bed.”

Alfred puts his hand on the small of Damian’s back and goes to lead him back to his room, but Damain plants his feet into the ground and glares. “No. I demand to see him first.”

“Master Damian, are you worried about him?" 

"No!” Damian snaps, though it feels half hearted even to himself. He’s not worried about Todd, he’s really not, he just… wants to make _sure_. “I just want to make sure the idiot survived.”

Alfred’s lips thin as he studies the boy before him. For a second, Damain thinks he should just shove him aside and just go to Todd’s room… or the med bay in the cave. His memory gets blurry around the end, but if he really saw Todd that beat up, he’d probably be down in the cave. Except, with his foot smarting as much as it is now, he wouldn’t get far before Alfred caught up with him, with the exhaustion in his limbs, he’d just injure himself if he tried to fight back. 

For a single, horrifying moment, Alfred looks to be about to decline Damain’s demand, and is definitely opening his mouth to do so, but then a new voice joined the conversation. 

“Let him see him, Alfred.”

Damian snaps his head around and there he sees father walking down the hallway towards them. At first glance, he looks neat and put together, but the second glance he definitely hasn’t shaved for a few days. There’s scabs on the knuckles of his hands and other purple and green bruises unsuccessfully hidden by foundation on his face. The black bags under his eyes are swollen and dark, his suit is wrinkled in too many places to list, and his tie isn’t even tucked in the collar. Damian’s only seen him like this a handful of times, and that’s only been when someone close to him is hurt, so he takes his frustration out on himself and the criminals of Gotham. 

Damain wonders how many seriously wounded criminals are sitting in holding cells right now, and how many are for Todd and how many are for himself. 

It’s a very strange thing to wonder about, how many people Batman would beat up for you, but in this moment it matters to Damian, because there’s probably more for Todd. Fathers always loved his first Robin’s, when he came around father died and Grayson took over, and Damian will admit it’s been an awkward and tense relationship with his father ever since he returned to take up the mantle and Grayson left. All of a sudden, he had a biological son and Damain had a father who’s decided he’s felt too much pain to care for another child quite like the way he’s cared for the others. 

“Father,” Damian says, and that’s all he can say. For some reason, the formality feels like poison leaving his lips. 

Then, what happens next shocks Damian for whatever words he’d be able to create after that. He’s suddenly pulled into warmth, protection wrapping around his back and desperation digging it’s fingers into his hair slowly yet firmly. 

Father is hugging him, pulling him close to his chest and holding him close, kneeling down so they’re at the same height, fingers pulling his head and into the crook of his neck. 

“I thought I lost you again,” father says, something old and almost unrecognizable in his voice.

It’s not the first hug Damain and his father has ever exchanged. Though, the hugs he’s gotten were usually awkward and exchanged more as a pleasantry than whatever this is. This… longing, fear, urging need to have another body wrapped in your arms. Damain doesn’t get a chance to think that maybe he should return the shocking hug because it only lasts a few seconds. Before he knows it, his father is pulling away, a strange upwards turn to his lips and a watery look in his eyes as he ruffles Damain’s hair. 

“You want to see Jason?" 

-o-o-o-o-

He looks too still. That’s all that runs through his head as he enters the medbay to see Todd sleeping on his cot, not a worry in the world. Sure, Todd isn’t exactly known for any constant movement like Grayson is, but when he sees him this still, this lifeless, surrounded by white, it’s hard to not think that this isn’t right, that he should be moving. Or at least shouting swears.

Grayson looks up from where he’s buried his head into his hands and looks up at Damian with wide eyes. "Dami- I meant to be there when you woke up.”

“It’s fine,” Damain replies. If Grayson had his way, he’d be constantly sitting vigil for both Damian and Todd, but since he doesn’t have the superpower to split himself in two, he chose to stay with the one most injured. “How is he?" 

He turns his focus back onto Todd and that uncomfortable feeling claws in his stomach with a revenge. There’s definitely new bruises and cuts from the last time Damian saw him. There are bandages in places, to all Damain’s knowledge, shouldn’t be there. 

"He’s… Fine,” Grayson replies slowly, more for his sake than for Damain’s. “He’ll be okay. He just might need some physical therapy to get back on his feet. The bullet missed his heart and-”

“Bullet?”

Grayson snaps his mouth shut with an audible click. 

They shot him. 

They were almost too late. 

Damain shakes his head and limps towards an extra chair and clumps down in it, glaring at Todd’s stupid face before his eyes trail down to the wires, bandages, blotched visible skin-

“I- I’m going to grab some lunch. You want a sandwich, Dami?" 

_It’s all forest out there, Dami_.

Damian answers without taking his eyes away from Todd. "Yes… thank you…" 

He doesn’t get any response from Grayson, only footsteps disappearing behind a closed door. Damain sighs as silence over him. 

He doesn’t even notice times passed, too absorbed in his own thoughts, until something calls for his attention.

"Wow, kid, you know it makes me nervous when you look at me like that.”

Damain whips his head up and stares wide eyed over at Todd. He’s grinning as much as the bruises on his cheeks will allow, eyes half lidded, tired. 

“You look like hell,” Damain says. 

Todd’s face contorts into an unamused glare before he attempts to shift. The movement stops before it begins, ending with Todd saying a string of swears that would have Alfred scolding him. 

“They really did a number on me, huh?” Todd asks through bated breath, his eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows coming together. 

Damain sits back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you…”

Todd opens his eyes for a second to give Damian a meaningful glance before he sighs and collapses into the cot like a rag doll. “I told you,” he says quietly, “Dick would kill me if you died.”

Damian bristles. “So you thought purposely getting yourself killed was the answer?" 

"Hey, you figured it out, got help in time. It all worked-”

Damain slaps his hands on his legs and launches himself to his feet. He wants to yell, scream, add a few bruises onto Todd’s already beat up body just to show how frustrated and angry and… scared he is. Todd watches him with one eye half open, as if already preparing how to rebuttal anything Damian says to him, and Damain deflates, flopping back into his chair like a puppet with cut strings. His ankle is pulsing like a fire, he forgot to take the painkillers before he left. 

“You’re an imbecile,” he says, looking down at the tiled floor instead of the man laying across from him, the man who he was responsible for every ache he’d suffered in the past few days. “You could have really died.”

“When things magically work out,” Todd says softly, “I tend to not focus on what ifs.”

Damain snorts, because that’s the exact opposite from Grayson and Father and Drake, all of them really. It’s amusing how care free Todd is sometimes, how little he cares about the consequences and how rashly he jumps into things without thinking it through all the way. Things have magically worked out too many times for Todd, it’s probably best to now dwell on the what ifs… for now.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Damain says, he looks up from the tile and into Todd’s eyes, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Todd replies, smiling ever so slightly, “and I’m only saying that once too, brat.”

Right then, the door opens and Grayson walks in with a sandwich halfway already in his mouth and an extra one on a plate meant for probably Damian. He stops in his tracks and gives Todd a wide eyed look, the sandwich dropping from his mouth. 

“I missed you waking up too?!”

For the first time in a long while, Damian reduces to uncontrollable laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first, I wanted Damian to go back to the house and just kick ass, but somehow it ended up like this, which I personally like better. Anywho, thanks for reading! Here's to more stories!

**Author's Note:**

> Will be updated every Monday. Thank's for reading! I hope you all enjoyed!!


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